An Ending
by Spitefully Sane
Summary: UPDATED! An ending for the Snape family is transformed into a beggining. Lame summary, yes I know, but please just read and review.
1. An Ending of Good Things

  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing, please don't say I do for I have an irrational fear of lawyers. If you have a problem, email me first or bitch at someone else. Also, this is a bit morbid, so it you don't like that type of writing, don't read. Thankyou.  
  
_**An Ending  
**_By SpitefullySane  
  
He remembered the moment he first saw her, a tiny eleven year old who memorized her entire textbooks before she first stepped foot on the Hogwarts Express. Then he saw her as the Annoying Gryfindore Know It All who somehow kept her two closest friends from death and expulsion for seven long years. Next, she suddenly blossomed into a woman. Her head held with an inner certainty and courage that stunned all those who oppressed her due to her 'lowly birth'.  
  
That was the woman who connected with him, who loved him and married him much to his surprise and the surprise of her generation. That was the goddess in mortal form who became his wife and blessed him with children, a hopeless dream to him in his darkest of time to believe he could be worthy of such.  
  
And because of their age difference and the hard, dangerous life he lead for so long, he always assumed he would be the one to die first, their children a testament to the love they shared. But now he realized that assuming had been his downfall. For this was the day she would receive her final resting place, an insult to hide his beloved beneath the earth.  
  
His oldest son, Lorenzo, stood with him as they lowered her into the cold earth, his silence as deafening as his father's.  
  
"She let me brush her hair, that last night." Lorenzo said quietly, speaking just to ease his own thoughts, "She never let anyone touch her hair except you, especially after the chemotherapy."  
  
That was true, He thought, as he remembered how long and wild her hair used to be. Then the muggle doctors made her go through the awful experiences of that 'therapy' to kill her sickness that was inside her. After years of her long, bushy hair being so much apart of her image, it unnerved him to see it slowly thin and eventually fall out completely.  
  
"It wasn't as soft as it used to be, and was uneven in places, but she finally let me touch it," Lorenzo said, both felt the pinpricks of tears in their eyes.  
  
"It was still beautiful, though." He replied to his son, tears now forming and falling down both men's faces. He turned to study his son who stood at his side, noticing his fine jet black hair grown to chin length, the sharp angular contrast of his cheek bones to his high forehead, his thin lips, and his small beaklike nose. The boy was a carbon copy of him at seventeen, except for his eyes. He had his mother's amber brown eyes that easily displayed emotion and concern.  
  
He turned back to the gaping hole in the earth that held her coffin. Images of her smiling and full of life was the constant contradiction to her funeral. The frail, wasted away creature in that lacquered box wasn't his wife. The thin and sickly incarnation of her wasn't the strong, sufficient woman he had love for nearly twenty years.  
  
"I could smell the soap she used as I kissed her for the last time that night." Lorenzo continued, "I smelled it for so many years that I've almost missed its absence lately. I could smell it when she tucked me in every night, and I smelled it when she sat up, worrying whenever I went out at night."  
  
"She did that a lot. Worry about you, that is."  
  
"But I guess I missed it over the years I've been away at school. I missed her soapy smell mixed with lavender and whatever else in her shampoo. Last night was the first time I've noticed it in what seems like ages."  
  
"Honey-suckle." His father whispered, she used that lavender muggle shampoo that had honey-suckle because she said it reminded her of her own lost mother, a casualty of the Second War with the Dark Lord Voldemort.  
  
Lorenzo glanced at his father for the first time during his rambles. The feared Potions Master who loved his mother was glaring at her coffin, almost as if waiting impatiently for her to rise from the wooden box and return to her true form.  
  
He remembered her proud smile she wore for months when he returned to the Manor for summer holiday, her laughing with him at his adventures he had at Belle Nora, his magical school in New Orleans. He remembered how they would argue over various subjects ranging from new wizard laws to the length of his hair. He could almost smell the perfume she wore for special occasions and feel the soft kisses she would place on his cheek every year before he left for his plane to America.  
  
He knew she hated for him to be so far away from the family, Hogwarts, and her. But he knew she secretly helped him convince his father to let him go so he could have space to become his own person, so he could live out of the shadow of his brilliant parents who taught at their own Alma Marta.  
  
Is this it? he asked himself. Of all the Catholic dogma his mother hammered into his head, was this truly her ending? To be alone in a hole in the earth for the rest of eternity?  
  
"Do you think she made it to Heaven?" He asked his father.  
  
"She did and she's queen of all the angles now." His father replied with strong certainty, tears now streaming down his face.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"If not, then I don't understand God's ways." He said as the grave diggers started to pile dirt on top of her, "You need to go now, Lorenzo. Your sisters will start to worry soon."  
  
With one last look at her head stone, he nodded and left his father to apparate to their manor.  
  
He stood there a few moments more, remembering her shining eyes and embracing smiles. Moments of their life together filtered through his mind.  
  
The day Lorenzo was born, the time she kissed him softly on top his head when the Dark Lord fell, him embracing her when their twin daughters were born, the day she whispered "I do" to his question of matrimony. The day she cried out when she found him broken and bloody after a particularly painful summons to the Dark Lord, reminding him that there was someone to morn his passing.  
  
Her coffin was nearly covered now, barely any of the box was showing through. He knew he was needed at home, that his son and daughters would need his comfort. He turned, the image of her headstone burning the joy from his life.  
  
Hermione Angela Granger-Snape  
Beloved Wife, Mother, and Friend  
1987-2023  
  
That was the last image he remember seeing before his world became dark and his mind blank. He became a shell of a man, returning to old habits to those who knew him before his marriage to an angel. He returned to being Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master and Snarky Bastard Extrodinare. 


	2. Teensy's Testimony

Disclaimer: Check chapter one.

_**Teensy's Testimony**_

_By SpitefullySane_

My whole life, I ain't never met a woman like my Madam, nor do I 'spects to now she's gone. Sometimes my young Mizzes would suddenly have a bout of inspiration and for a tick, I could see their Mama in them. But that spark usually would fade and they would return back to them old, _boring_, selves. Out of all my Litt'l Massers and Mizzes, only Masser Lorenzo act the most like my Madam. And I could only hope to still be here when he settles so I's could serve his chilren likes I took care of him.

I knews since the first time she ever set foot in the Manor she be different. I knew she'd be the one to change ever'thin, but I was used to things and the way they be, so I wasn't sure if she'd change things for the better or the worst. She made me nervous at first, smilin at us all the time and actin all nice to us house elves. It made us all nervous, but our duty to the family made us get over it, our duty and our Masser. Big Masser tole my Chaney his wife was naturally polite and she wasn't raised in the ways he was. He said it would take time for us all to adjust to her, and her to us. When Chaney tole us elves that, it made us even more nervous seeing hows we never had to learn to adjust to anythin. We serves our purposes, and 'spect to have massers and madams that act a certain way, but Chaney said our new Madam was muggleborn, so we should just learn to deal.

That my Chaney's motto: _Learn to deal_. It served him good for the past fifty years, helped him live through the old Masser's temper, and will keep him employed for the next fifty years. And when he said Masser 'pointed me to be the new Madam's personal house elf, he comforted me be sayin "Learn to deal."

It didn' take long for us to start likin the new Madam. At lease, not as long as I thought it would. We learned her moods and emotions she showed through her brown sugar eyes. She was never sharp with us like the Big Masser can be. She never kicked at us or sneered like some of Big Masser's 'acquaintances' did. And we all agreed later that we didn't miss _that_much anyhow.

Now, since I's the one assigned to Madam personally, I guess I's the one who knew her best, 'cepts for Big Masser, of course. I could judge her discomfort and delight better than the others when she set herself into her new married life. I could feel hers discomfort sometime, almost as if she pulled it out of a drawer and handed it to me to wash. She'd be dressed to the nine's in robes that didn't look all that comfortable to begin with just so's she could be the picture of the perfect wife for our Masser. I's worry 'bout her somethin fierce during those first few months. I's lay next to my's Chaney awake at night, worrying about why she act so strange, and if it could upset the Big Masser. But then, she started to relax and gain some courage around her and let the real her show through. That's when she'd be dressin in her muggle clothes, wearin some rock band's tee shirt and short-shorts with flip-flops. She looked real comfortable then, as if she shed some skin and found she liked her new skin better than the one she wear'd for others.

That's when things got interestin.

That's when she would start makin appearances in the kitchen, sometimes puttin on a apron and makin huge batches of soup, cookies, anythin that catches her fancy. What really shook things up was the fact she'd offer some of the goodies to us elves as we helped her cook. She'd say, "Please try one, they are my Mother's recipe. Go on, they don't taste _that _bad, really," as she'd offer Chaney a cookie covered in sprinkles and orange frosting.

Just the look on Chaney's face had me laughin for months. That look made me want to take the offered treat and pop it into my mouth just to see what he would do 'bout it. Don't get me wrong, I's love my Chaney and the littl' elves we parented together, but sometimes he could be_ just too much_. He would start actin like he didn't like the new Madam just 'cause she be muggleborn. Really, sometime he could act so much like the Big Masser that a few years back, I started callin him Mr. King Know-It-All so he would snap out of his mood. But I kept my tongue in my's mouth then, and the treat just sat on the counter top.

My Chaney's coldness didn't bother my Madam like I thoughts it would. It just made her want to sing, and sing she did! Every mornin, she'd start belting tunes into the air as if she needed to sing to survive. One could always tell her mood from the song she'd be singin. That Manor was full of song that I'd sometimes joke we should be sellin tickets for the beautiful concert my Madam puts on daily. It was always "Oh! What a beautiful morning!" and "It's a beautiful day in this neighborhood, a beautiful day for a neighbor!" echoing up and down those corridors proclaimin her joy.

Thens we all realize why she be so joyful. She had Masser Lorenzo with in her then! She was bringin a heir into this world for our Big Masser, just when we elves started thinkin he would never extend his family line even if he be married an' all. And they didn't stop at just one chile, oh no! They graced that Manor with three chilren, one son and twin daughters, a true joy to us to serve any extension of the family we be bound to.

Those fifteen years after was some of the best years I's ever had the pleasure to live. There in that Manor, we's all were happy and content and _alive_. It's as if we all's were just waitin for Madam to enter through them big mahogany door and set foot in that foyer to make us see. To make us open our eyes and see the light of the world instead of livin with eyes shut and gropin around in the dark.

Then things started changin again, but this time t'ward the bad. Things started to slip from her mind like she was concentratin on somethin real hard and still not gettin the concept she was concentratin on. She would sometimes fall down and forget how to move her body to get back up. And then the sickness came.

My Madam started gettin real sick, sorta like she'd be when she had a chile in her, but worst. She couldn't eat, she couldn't get more than a few hours of sleep a night, and sometimes she would complain that she couldn't even breath right.

I's knew things were gettin bad when she started smokin. I knew that her muggle doctor didn't have very good news for her when she would drive up the road to the Manor in that muggle contraption some of her kin gave her, blasting her loud rock music and smokin her cigarettes like they were her only salvation. The Big Masser started givin me potions to give her when she'd be dizzy and such, potions for sleep, potions so she can eat, sometimes she'd joke that she was takin potions just so she could get out of bed in the mornings.

Then she started gettin all holy on me. I'd find her sittin at the window seat in the library, her favorite spot in the whole Manor, with tears streamin down her face mumblin somethin under her breath. I axed her if she could speak up, thinkin she wanted me to fetch her somethin, but she turned and smiled a sad teary smile and say, "Don't worry, Teensy darling, I'm just saying my prayers."

I axed her once what kind of God she prayed to, and she answered, to a God of all loveliness. And even though that confused me, I's knew she mostly prayed to her parents. She 'xplained that her parents were in a good place, but she prayed to Her Holy Mother that they could enter Heaven and be in a better place. Or maybe she said they needs a Haven, I could never really remember things right that confused me in the first place. But be it Heaven or Haven, she always prayed when she needed to and now, it seemed she really needed to if she had tears pourin down her cheeks. I'd usually see her smile a happy, sweet smile when she'd talk with her God, and sometimes laughing when she'd finger her string of beads, but never cryin all sad like.

Her cryin scared me to no end. I's knew she was a religious woman, and righteous to boot, but I's never come accross my Madam with tears when ever she'd be praying. I's only ever seen her cry once, and that's when Big Masser tole her that her parents was dead, kilt by the bad, dark wizards. Even then, I's only glimpsed at her distress. Big Masser kicked me outs of the room when she falled to her knees and started bawling. Later, when she climbed into her and Masser's big bed and just laid there starin at the walls, I crept into her room and whispered soothing things to her, sayin how much I's understans her. I's tole her my biggest secret in that moment, a secret that my Chaney don't even knows, and then I's knew she wasn't just my Madam but also in some small way my friend.

That night, when she passed, Masser Lorenzo took me into his room and set me down on one of his chairs and looked at me as if he was seein me for the first time in years even though I was just in the same room as him and Madam not more than a hour ago. He looked at me and said real quiet like, "Teensy, Mama died this morning." He said it like he didn't believe the words commin out of his own mouth, as if just sayin them horrible words were as painful as me watchin him say them. I knows I must of cryed, but all I's remember after him sayin all that was me comfortin him like he was a lil chile again. I took him to his bed and tucked him in and kept my face all straight as I reminded him that Madam didn't really die, she just gone on to Heaven, like she tolds us she would.

The next morning, Masser Lorenzo woke early and together we went down to Saint Matthew's for early prayer service that was bein held in Madam's honor. I recognized some of the witches and wizards that came to the Manor form time to time, but I also saw some muggles that was kin to Madam. I saw her god chile, Isabella Rivera, who Madam pratically raised since she was five years old after her family was kilt in the last dark war. And I saw plenty more chilren who were the chilren of Madam's friends all grown up in their best robes, goin through the motions of that muggle service, not knowin how to really act and all. There was even some house elves there! Of all them people there, what really got me was what brought them together. Powerful witches and wizards singing hymns with muggles, purebloods and halfbloods all mixed in the pews with only their grief showing on their faces. I felt pride in my small body as if Madam had just walked in and smiled at me. The beauty of those people being together and singin and cryin tears together was like finally solvin some great mystery of life. My Madam had brought all these people together just by touchin their lives with her special tenderness and that link still remained, even if she didn't.

And I love her for that. I loves her like she my sister, born of the same mother and sharing the same blood that be in my veins.

Now, I not really sure if me loving my Madam like an equal is wrong, but her warmth she'd spread on me and our Manor doesn't really make me care all that much. (Though I's never tell my Chaney that!) What I really be sure of is when she died, our world got flat. Our tiny piece of the Manor and the estate got to be too fair, too simple, too ordinary, and too damn _common_! And now I can only wait for the day when one of my Massers or Mizzes could open up. I'm waiting for the day when they realize the extraordinariness of themselves and rush to greet life with arms wide open like their Mama did. I'm waiting for them to begin laughing again.


End file.
